Pie Day What Day?

A few pertinent questions answered.

Pie Day What Day?

Pie Day Friday.

What is Pie Day Friday?

At its essence, Pie Day Friday is a commitment to joy, friendship, and nourishment. Those who consider themselves members of the Pie Day Friday movement are, without exception, absolute legends who chose to savour that most delicious of dishes, the humble pie, of a Friday.

Whether you enjoy your pie alone or with friends, at home or in the pub, with mash or with chips, with or without gravy, you are welcome in this brotherhood of pie-eaters. Let’s bring in the weekend with a slice of happiness.

Am I allowed to eat a pie on another day (for example, a Wednesday)?

Listen, mate, I’m not your mum and you are the king of your own schedule. The most important thing is you have a pie and you stay safe – that’s why this blog has taken a strong stand against risky pies, such as the nicotine and onion, the toxic turnover, or the Cornish crazy.

If you wish to partake in a pie on any other day, that is your prerogative; but some of the finer details of Friday pie-ery presented here may go over your head. You certainly won’t be able to enjoy your pie with as much reckless abandon as would a pure Friday piyer, unless of course you have a non-traditional working week, or you decide to postpone piement to a Saturday evening.

To get the most out of your calendar/eating club, may I suggest you seek a food group which suits your own hectic schedule, such as Bun and Rum Monday, Kimchi/Tuna Tuesday, Sunday Crumb Day, or Boozy Snoozy Tuesday, for the adventurous.

What makes a good pie?

Filling, crust. Those are the basic elements. If I pie is missing any one of those, I am prone to dismiss it out of hand.

Gravy. Is there gravy, I ask myself, and is it delicious? If the answer to either of those questions is “no”, I’m on edge. For sweet pies – the same questions, but with custard.

Sides. Chips, mash, veg. A pie alone is no true pie, so they say. A pudding pie can just about stand alone, but I’d usually be hoping for a chip, anyway.

How do you feel eating it? This can come down to atmosphere – if you’re in a canteen with a threatening man eyeballing you, well that pie isn’t gonna taste half as good as the one you scoffed in an easy chair by the fire.

Appearance. You eat with your eyes, as they say, and a beautiful golden brown specimen will always cheer you up more than a slop of pastry and meat.

Aftermath. A pie can never achieve full marks in my book if I don’t feel pleasantly stuffed and sluglike afterwards.

Ethicability. Sure, most pies I love contain meat, the mass production of which is steadily destroying our planet Earth, but that doesn’t mean my pie consumption has to be completely without conscience. Is the world, I think, a better place with this pie in it? Does the pie contain unsustainably sourced ingredients, like palm oil or fossil fuels? Is the pie a threat to those values I hold dearest (democracy, rule of law, solid/gravy ratio)?

I’m abroad, I’m out of pie, help.

The existence of foreign pies is still fiercely debated, but here is a handy phrasebook to get you started.